


Holding On

by xXxBishopxXx



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types, Resident Evil 3 - remake
Genre: Battle Scars, Carlos has issues, Childhood Trauma, Crazy Russian, Dark, Drinking, Follows after the game, G-Virus (Resident Evil), Healing, Jealousy, M/M, Mission Fic, Pre-Slash, Slash, Slow Burn, So does Nikolai, Spoilers, Trust Issues, bitch, he lives, mutations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:55:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23914936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXxBishopxXx/pseuds/xXxBishopxXx
Summary: Carlos is struggling to deal with the fallout from Raccoon City, he just wants to forget the whole ordeal, however things are never that simple where a certain calculating Russian is involved. Being dragged on a mission for data collection should have been easy, add feelings for a certain silver wolf and random mutations from the T-Virus to the mix makes things a little more complicated....Sometimes it's easier to let go then keep holding on...
Relationships: Nicholai Ginovaef | Nikolai Zinoviev/Carlos Oliveira
Comments: 11
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to start off by stating that I am no writer! Like, guys, I'm doing this cuz your boi is stuck inside like everyone else and played RE3 remake way too many times for it to be healthy. 
> 
> I really thought Jill made the wrong move with leaving Nikolai behind, so my dumb ass decided to make things better in a crappy fic which I may or may not continue. It depends how bored I get in lockdown. ._. And of course, I love Carlos too - so...Yeah, I ship them now. Fight me. 
> 
> All mistakes are my own. I ain't no professional here, though I do apologise about them. <3

Carlos Oliveria sat in a virtually empty bar, staring vacantly down into the devils liquid of a double shot that his fingers were wrapped around the glass of – his mop of hair more untidy then it ever had been as it fell into rat tails of an unhinged mess. 

Two months. Two _damn_ months since Raccoon City, and here he was, stuck in a bar while drinking away his sorrows. 

It amazed him - mostly annoyed him to no end - how much he was caught up in the literal fall out of RC, the squad mates he had lost, good men to brain eating freaks – his captain, and even the silver haired, back stabbing lone wolf he had left on that Helipad to be utterly destroyed by an incoming nuke. 

Knocking back the bitter tasting drink, Carlos slammed the glass down with so much force it fractured the rim, making it unusable. _‘Huh, I know what that’s like…’_ the thought felt far too dark to be his own, but that did not stop him from picking at the new jagged, sharp line in the shot-glass. 

The memory, perfectly printed in his mind like a painting kept in such good conditions it did not age or fade, of him starting up the chopper – expressionless as he watched the encounter with Jill and Nikolai. 

Jill left him. Bullet wound in the shoulder which the elder was clutching, clearly in pain from the burning sensation riddling through his tired form, yet his eyes, normally filled with unreadable emotion, looked straight at him. 

Glossy grey-blue orbs locking straight onto Carlos’ deep brown ones. 

It was in that moment that Carlos made for lift off. And somehow the one who usually hid his feelings so well, looked betrayed by the younger as he left him there, wounded, no chance of survival. 

_Damnit:_ those clear eyes haunted his every waking moment. 

A part of Carlos had tried to justify his actions about leaving his Russian comrade behind that dawn when RC was obliterated from existence, but the other part of him wished he had either turned that helicopter around or hauled his ass onto the damn thing in the first place. 

Jill wouldn’t have liked it, but she didn’t understand that what S.T.A.R.S had meant to her, his platoon had meant to him – greed or not, those men who had perished were his family. The only one he had, and whether he wanted to admit it or not, he missed them. 

He missed him. 

Turns out bringing these thoughts up with Jill was a bad idea, no matter how he tried to reason with her she would not have it – believing that Nikolai had gotten what he truly deserved. 

Hell, maybe he did.

Yet that did not stop the guilt from eating Carlos up. Hence why he turned to drink. While he was trying to forget what had happened. Jill concentrated on finding and destroying the rest of Umbrella. She was obsessed with it, not that he could blame her, but the woman never stopped – which he admired – but the obsession grew too much, and he had to get away from it. 

  
Forget it. Somehow. 

“Think it’s time for you to go, buddy…” The voice of a female bartender stirred the muscular male from his reflection on the events which had taken place.

Standing on somewhat wobbly legs, he threw some money down on the counter, not caring if the girl took it as a tip or to make up for the badly damaged glass he had caused.

There was a storm brewing. Had been for days but he had not noticed with his drunken haze, so he was in nothing but top and casual slacks. Rain battered down against his far too warm flesh as he strolled through the empty streets. Entering a large, rundown building which he now called his home, Carlos ignored the arguing from the neighbours above his tiny, crappy flat. He wondered briefly if they would argue like they did if they had survived the hellhole that he and Jill had. 

However, it was when he reached his door, that he stopped and frowned. There, just beneath the peephole, was a folded piece of paper with a knife sticking through it. Two letters were scribbled across the front of the fold. 

_C.O_

Glancing around, even though he knew whoever had put the note and knife through his door was already gone, Carlos turned back towards it. Grasping the letter while tearing away the blade, he unfolded it and read what little information it contained. 

_If you want to put an end to the past then come to the warehouse by the dock’s tomorrow night at 18:00, do not be late._

Carlos could only assume that the past they were referring to was Raccoon City, meaning it could only be one person who had made it. Jill. 

He shook his head as he looked at the new, deep crack in his door. “You didn’t have to put a damn knife through my door, Valentine.” 

* * *

The young male did not get much sleep that night. Tossing and turning; contemplating whether he truly wanted to see Jill again, part of him did, to see how she was getting on, but the rest of him just wanted to pretend he had never gotten the note and carry on drinking away the days and nights which all blurred into one.

Yet he had showered, shaved the growing beard that now fell back to its normal trim of thick stubble. And made himself look presentable to the public eye instead of some homeless fool who spent whatever he could on booze. 

So, when six O’clock in the evening rolled by, Carlos was standing under the cover of a building nearby, watching the warehouse with mild curiosity. He felt under his jacket that protected him from the weather, feeling that familiar outline of a gun that brought far too much comfort then it should have to him.

He made his move. The docks were eerily abandoned, given the storm overhead he figured that was the reason as boats and ships alike shook in the waters below. The warehouse itself was dark, lights only turning on when they sensed life inside. There was nothing much to take note of apart from a bunch of boxes at the back – all of which looked like they hadn’t been handled in months. 

Why would Jill pick a place like this to meet? Carlos thought, rain pounding down around the old building. It didn’t seem like a place she would want to meet up at. 

On instinct alone, the young male reached for his pistol but before he fully grasped it, he heard a voice that he thought he would never hear again. 

“I was wondering how long you were going to stand outside for...” 

The voice in question was like a purr to Carlos’ ears as he spun around. Seeing a figure that was a little leaner than his own. He felt like he couldn’t breathe as he starred into those eyes that had haunted him for two months of sleepless nights. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, my friend.” The Russian grinned like the Cheshire cat himself. 

“…Nikolai…?” The name fell so smoothly from his lips, it was like he hadn’t been haunted by the man for so long.

He had gone mad. That was the only explanation for it. Carlos was sure now that he had lost his mind or was having a dream and in reality- he was bent over a bar stinking of alcohol.

He wanted to reach out and touch the man. Make sure he was real. And to make sure that he wouldn’t just vanish. Yet the only thing Carlos could do was gawk as the silver haired male walked towards him like everything was perfectly fine and whole thing that happened at RC never actually occurred – a smirk playing at his lips. 

Carlos snapped. 

Not being able to restrain himself, his fist met the side of Nikolai’s face, tackling the elder to the ground with ease, all the while using his weight to his advantage to pin him down. Wrists captured by Carlos’ hands, he forced them down at either side of the Russian’s head, making him unable to fight the bulkier male off. Seeing Nikolai so defenceless took him back to that night on the roof top where he had been held in Carlos’ very own arms – ready to be shot by Jill. 

“How the hell are you alive?!” He all but roared. He had so many questions. Too many questions. How did he get out of RC, how did he find him – and yet what he truly wanted to ask was if the man was okay. If he felt as traumatised as Carlos did. Alone in a world where no one else could understand the things they had seen, the fights they had survived. 

Did Nikolai forgive him for leaving him behind? Hell, did he even care? Was he haunted by Carlos’ eyes like he was his? 

Nikolai scoffed from where he was held against the cool ground. “No thanks to you and that damn woman of yours, that’s for sure.” 

The bitterness of referring to Jill was still as alive as ever. Carlos remembered when the two had met once again in the train station, how they had both attempted to stare one another down until he intervened. There was a funny thought that ran through his mind with how the S.T.A.R.S agent would react to knowing this man beneath him was alive and breathing. 

Carlos really did not want to admit it, but the feeling and sight of the rise and fall of the others chest gave him such relief he did not know how to feel about it. 

That was when Nikolai turned the tide, a well-placed head butt and quick roll of his lower half led to him straddling Carlos’ waist – like a wolf gazing down at its prey. 

He chuckled. “And here I thought Mikhail taught you to never be caught off guard.” With that, he lifted himself from Carlos’ pinned figure, no aid needed to stand and rub lightly at the mark forming on the side of his face. 

“Tsk, as if you care,” Carlos replied coldly as he sat up. “You left him and Jill on that train to die.” 

Nikolai rolled his eyes. “You and I both know he was going to die no matter what-”

Standing to full height so quickly Carlos was positive he saw Nikolai flinch from how fast he had moved, he stood in front of him. “Yeah? Well so what if his wounds were too severe, you could have at least given him a fighting chance instead of leaving them both to die!” 

Clouded grey met deep brown for the first time in what felt like forever. It seemed they were at a check mate.

“You had such potential,” Nikolai finally pulled away from the trance they had both been swept into – searching one another’s eyes for everything and anything. “Valentine made you too soft.” 

As he made to walk away, Carlos reacted before he could stop himself, his hand wrapping firmly around the Russian’s wrist – the temptation to pull him back, pull him closer, was too strong for his liking and yet he had no desire to fight it. 

What the hell had gotten into him? Nikolai was right. Maybe being close with Jill had turned him into a softy. 

Yet the surprisingly soft features of the elder that no doubt mimicked in his own confusion, made him slowly release his grasp. 

Nikolai was cautious with redrawing his hand away, glancing at his wrist as if to check if Carlos had marked it somehow, gently touching it with his fingertips until he realised that the younger was intently watching his every movement. Carlos couldn’t help but wonder if that was the first form of human contact Nikolai had since RC too. 

Later, Carlos would be sure to tell himself that he had merely still been drunk, or at least tipsy, from the night prior as he stepped that final inch closer to the Russian – normally if someone dared get in his personal space a fist would find itself buried in ones face, but he didn’t act in response. 

Then, of course, whatever moment they were sharing, it was ruined. 

Nikolai retracted himself so fast from Carlos it was like the man had been bitten by a snake, he stalked over to some boxes, pulling himself up and sitting cockily on top of them. “So, I know you must have questions and I would gladly answer them, but I see no gain in such pleasantries.” 

“Oh really?” Carlos raised an eyebrow, though with his hair he doubted such an action could be seen. “Then why did you want me here?” 

“I have a proposition for you. My employer wishes for me to obtain more data on Umbrella and is willing to pay a great deal for it.”

Some things never change, Carlos mused as he felt a pang of disappointment. “Sorry Nikolai, but money doesn’t interest me as much as it does you.” He took that moment to try and leave. 

“I wasn’t finished.” 

With a heavy sigh, Carlos glanced back at the sly wolf who sat more forwardly, losing the cockiness. 

“Miss Valentine has been trying to find whatever she can on Umbrella – and I can tell you now – she isn’t even close. So much for detective work,” Nikolai murmured the last part. “If you come with me, whatever data I find, I’ll share with you. Which means you can make that woman of yours very happy.”

Carlos didn’t know whether to be worried that Nikolai had apparently been spying on them from afar, or to be concerned at the fact he kept referring to Jill as his woman. Which she certainly was not. 

“And why should I trust you, Nikolai – last time I checked we didn’t exactly end on the best of terms.” 

God, how he wanted to say he was sorry for leaving him. 

A smirk stretched over Nikolai’s lips. “Trust has nothing to do with it, my friend. I will be getting what I want, and you will be getting all the data you need on Umbrella - which I am certain Miss Valentine would be grateful to receive. We all benefit. So, do we have a deal?” 

_‘Turn around and walk away,’_ Carlos told himself, taking in a deep breath. _‘Walk away. Jill can find out what she needs without Nikolai…’_ There was a sudden realisation that caught the younger off guard. _‘But if you walk away, you’ll lose him again…’_

“…Deal.” 

There was no handshake, no term to seal the deal apart from the silver wolf clasping his hands together with an overly happy chime of “Good!” As he jumped down from his perch. “Now unless you want to say goodbye to the bottle, I suggest we get going.” 

Carlos didn’t apricate the remark about his drinking, half tempted to tell the Russian to deal with two months of pure, horrific nightmares and see what he turned to when there was no one else to be found, but he kept the words in. Instead he focused on following Nikolai as he led the way, eyes unmoving from where they lay on the strong back of his companion, not giving him chance to vanish from his sight. No, if Carlos had his way – he would not lose anyone he cared about again…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow another chapter was created. I know, I'm just as surprised as yall are too. 
> 
> Thank you for the comments, kudos, etc! 
> 
> All mistakes are my own. I legit write for fun and that's all.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, echoing around the mountains that made it that much louder in the solitude of the area, a flash of lightening illuminating the foggy mid-day – like a thick smoke it was almost impossible to see through.

In fact, had it not been for the close confinement of a low humming speed boat, Carlos had no doubt that he would not have been able to see his companion who was stirring the small, wooden sea-vessel. He had little choice but to trust that wherever they were heading – it was the right direction.

Apart from the elemental noises around them and the sound of a spluttering engine leading them onwards, there was not much else to occupy his mind as he sat at the front of the boat, holding a machine gun close to his chest. Both men’s attire was similar to what they had sported in RC, except now it was unbranded by the cursive company that – or at least Carlos – had worked for unwittingly.

The fog was unsettling. Not being able to see where they were heading put him on edge, half expecting to crash into something, he was rather glad he was not the one navigating. Tilting his head to the side, he could just make out the other man’s features if he squinted, there was no tells if he was on edge too, a cold calmness radiated from him.

Nikolai seemed completely in his element. Carlos figured that was from years of working alone. Silence must have been the Russian’s comfort, something that could so easily put others off made him at ease – even revealing softer features that most would not be allowed to see. It made the younger think that perhaps he had forgotten he wasn’t truly alone and had dragged Carlos off into the unknown.

Trying to get any information out of Nikolai was a waste of time. He would merely counter with the fact that he did not need any details of the mission and his reward would be data that would benefit Jill and maybe even himself. Not much to go on, and Carlos was certain most people would not have agreed to doing something they knew so little about, but he was unwilling to turn back now and admit he had made a mistake.

There was a small hope inside him that truly wanted to be able to trust Nikolai, but considering what happened at RC, he wasn’t dumb enough to believe that the silver wolf could be trusted. _‘No,’_ Carlos thought to himself bitterly. _‘Just dumb enough to join the man who was willing to let humanity suffer for greed, on a mission I know nothing about, cuz, surprise, surprise – he doesn’t trust you enough to say anything. Yeah, good job Carlos – way to be a hero.’_

He wanted to take his mind off…well, everything. That was why he had turned to drinking, making the mind too fuzzy to recall anything in the moment, it was just a pain when he sobered up and still recalled it all vividly.

Damn, he wished the platoon were still alive. It would have made the journey easier on him, the banter, and jokes. A distraction it may have been, but it was better than the one he had been doing.

Tyrell and him would always be talking about something or another, occasionally having Murphy butt in, and most of the time himself and T would take the piss at the fact that the kid thought that Nikolai had it out for him – the Russian was not a fan of people he considered weak, and that’s what he considered Murphy. Mikhail being that wise old sage who he could turn to when he just did not want to exist anymore.

It had all been taken away from him. His whole family. All in the spam of time it took for RC to become a hellhole of the century. He didn’t blame Nikolai, not completely, or even at all, after all the man was doing a job which involved destroying Umbrella – who had been the ones to start it all in the first place. He wondered, if the Nemesis had attacked that train without Jill on it, would the man have tried to help Mikhail…

No, Mikhail would have given his life for Nikolai anyway. That was just who the captain was. No matter what differences the two Russian’s had – he still would give his life for anyone in his Platoon. Like a true leader should.

“Were you never taught not to stare?”

Carlos snapped his eyes up to meet Nikolai’s, he had forgotten that while his thoughts were eating away at his very soul, he had been watching the older man intently. The softness that Carlos had previously been admiring had vanished, turning back to an emotionless and calculating look.

Choosing to ignore the question, Carlos went back with his own. “So, are we meeting up with a squad from your employer?”

“No. My employer has a lot of men at his disposal, but none of them are very capable. They would be good as meat shields – they are too reckless and dumb. It will just be the two of us on this mission.”

“Need someone level-headed, I get it. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you in a cold, cruel, Carlos-less world.” The light banter was enough to put Carlos at ease, even if all he received in return was a snort of mild amusement from his chosen words.

He also figured that was about as close as he was ever going to get to a compliment from Nikolai, the man would never say it to his face, but his previous statement showed that he thought the younger had skill. Or he just needed a knucklehead who would willingly help him. Carlos liked to think it was the first option.

A silence began to overtake them again, and Carlos was not a fan of going back to being anxious. “So, you gonna tell me how you got out of RC?”

Nikolai didn’t make eye contact as his gaze fell ahead of the younger. “And what do I gain from having this conversation?”

What was it with this man and always needing something to gain before doing anything? Carlos frowned. Knowing full well he was not going to get an answer if he had nothing to contribute to make the silver haired male willing to talk.

_‘Okay, fine…’_ Carlos removed a hand from his weapon, catching a chain around his neck and pulling it over his head. It had a small pendent attached. It was pure gold with a diamond in the middle of a circular plate. It was the last thing that his father had given him, not that he remembered his old man all that much. He had once considered it his good luck charm…he wasn’t so sure about that anymore.

“Here,” he threw the golden item to the Russian who caught it with ease. “Now you got something, in return I want an answer.”

Nikolai looked over the item, humming slightly as he bit into the gold to make sure it was real – ‘ _cheeky bastard’_ – it appeared to be up to his standards because he soon slipped it into his pocket.

“A helicopter.”

…Was he serious? Carlos shifted his body to look back at Nikolai who had the smuggest look on his face.

Taking in a deep breath, the darker toned male decided to ask for more details then what he had been given. “Okay, but who was in the helicopter?”

“You never asked that.”

Okay, the man had a point. “Come on, Nikolai – we had a deal.”

“Well next time ask the right question,” Nikolai countered, and before Carlos could come up with another comment – the engine cut as the boat soon made contact with a shoreline. “Stay alert. We will have to travel on foot.”

“If you say so…” He mumbled, not pouting at all from falling for the others game…

* * *

The darkness of night crept closer with each passing second, halting the journey when the former UBCS members came across a small cave. It wasn’t very big, but most importantly, it didn’t have a bear hibernating inside of it – so Carlos deemed it safe enough for them to rest up in.

They did not have much, the essentials, which in all rights was more than enough for two trained soldiers.

Carlos collected some wood, Nikolai started a fire, both men sitting on uncomfortable bedrolls – watching the flickering flames dance before their eyes. It was rather scary how easily they fell back into routine. Endless amounts of missions shared between them. Learning one another’s behaviours.

The majority of the evening went by in a comfortable, natural, silence between them. It wasn’t until Carlos noticed the Russian male rubbing lightly at his shoulder wound, did he frown and speak up.

“Let me have a look at that,” Carlos motioned towards Nikolai’s shoulder – getting a scoff as a reply.

“I’m fine.”

“Sure-you-are, and I’m the Queen of England.” Carlos was already digging through the bag he had brought with him. He had been one of the platoon’s better trained medics, hence why he had stayed to help Mikhail with his injuries back in RC, so he always carried some supplies.

In this line of work, he figured it was a safe bet that he was going to need them. “Just let me make sure it’s healing properly, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“I do not need your help,” Nikolai snarled. Blue orbs glaring daggers into Carlos’ back – so much so that the younger could feel the intensity.

With a heavy sigh, Carlos placed his equipment down and turned to the Russian. “Listen. Whether you like it or not, I’m the one who’s going to be covering your ass out here, okay? I’d rather make sure you’re fine now then have that injury slow us down later – so quit being such a hard-ass and let me do my job.”

Realisation seemed to take over Nikolai’s features, or maybe he couldn’t be bothered to fight with Carlos any longer, because instead of more complaints – the elder male merely sucked his teeth in displeasure of the idea of aid.

_‘Well, that’s a start…’_ Carlos shook his head. It would have been over already had the man just let him check. “Do me a favour and take off your vest and top.” He had half expected a firm _‘Like hell,’_ from the Russian, but no refusal was verbalised.

Instead the sound of rustling fabric broke out in the cave, a wince or two which Carlos pretended not to hear, keeping himself busy by double checking over his gear – knowing full well Nikolai would not appreciate him gawking while he disrobed.

Waiting until there was no more movement coming from behind him, Carlos grabbed his things and turned back, almost dropping everything in his grip at the sight.

Nikolai was sat on his bedroll, facing the fire, its light tracing over his pale skin. It reminded Carlos of sun shimmering on top of freshly fallen snow. Yet the softly glowing flesh was not unmarked. There were numerous amounts of scars that trailed from his tense shoulders to his lower back – hell, possibly even lower.

They were so old, but it was clear as to what they were - whip marks.

Carlos couldn’t imagine Nikolai letting something like that happen to him now, making the only reasonable assumption to be when he was a child – he was not willing to admit the rage that flared in the pits of his stomach at such thoughts.

Settling himself slightly in front of Nikolai, Carlos soon figured out why the damage Jill had given him was still causing hassle. It had been poorly taken care of. The stitches were a mess. Dried blood was splotched around his chest. It made sense, in a way, the silver wolf would never let anyone help him if he could get away with it – living up to the temperament of a lone wolf.

A shoulder injury was problematic to look after from another’s viewpoint, let alone by himself, the younger was amazed it had not become infected. Two-months in this condition – he was one lucky bastard to not have caused himself more harm.

The thought of Nikolai standing topless in front of a mirror, trying but failing to nurse his own wound, brought a minor smile to Carlos’ lips which he hid well. He did his best to focus on the task at hand and not take in the other healed wounds that layered the others chest and tight stomach.

Battle scars of survival; No one said survival was easy.

“There,” Carlos gently pressed a bandage into Nikolai’s torso after applying a generous amount of sterile spray to the area. He wasn’t willing to risk infection. “That should heal up better now. And take these,” he passed two pills. “They’ll help with the pain.”

Of course, Nikolai snatched them – suspiciously eyeing the pack they were contained in.

Carlos fought the urge to roll his eyes at the sight. He made his way over to what he would be calling his bed for the evening and lay down, arms folding under his head to give him support as he stared at the ceiling of the cave.

Here he was, in the middle of nowhere, helping Nikolai of all people. Oh, if Jill found out he had aided and not poisoned the Russian she would be pissed. Perhaps it was a good idea that he hadn’t gone out of his way to inform her of where he was going. Wherever that was. Or maybe it had sealed his fate in not letting it be known what was happening.

Some time passed and Carlos was fighting off the urge to sleep when he heard his name uttered into the stillness of the cave.

“Oliveira…”

“…” Carlos’ tired eyes trailed over to where Nikolai’s back, now covered by his grey top, was facing him.

“…Thank you.”

Carlos didn’t say anything, letting Nikolai believe him to be asleep, but he would be lying if he didn’t have a massive grin on his face from those words.

**Author's Note:**

> Am I the only one who can imagine Nikolai sending Jill a letter which reads; 
> 
> I live, bitch.


End file.
